Karen Tennent

Sean and Daro: Flake It ‘Til They Make It

06/08/23

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Due to circumstances beyond our control, we missed Sean and Daro on its initial release, so we’re delighted to discover it’s having a further run at TravFest 23. And deservedly so. This sprightly tale of two young Glaswegians seeking to become ice cream entrepreneurs finds a delicious sweet spot between comedy and tragedy – and runs with it. And any play that begins with an ode to the wonders of ice cream gets my vote any day of the week.

At his mum’s funeral, the moody and introspective Sean (Sean Connor) bumps into his old pal, Daro (Cameron Fulton), whom he’s lost touch with since going to Uni. Daro is the epitome of the unreliable best friend, the one your mum warns you about: full of ambition and hubris, but lacking anything with which to back it up. But he can talk like nobody’s business. Despite the solemness of the occasion, he’s soon persuaded Sean to use his inheritance – his mother’s flat – as collateral in a new shared enterprise. Together, they will become The Whippy Brothers, joint owners of an ice cream van. They will take to the highways and byways of Glasgow and make a proper killing, selling their sweet-tasting goods to all and sundry. After all, that’s how Duncan Bannatyne started, right?

But the road to success is a distinctly bumpy one – and there are plenty of obstacles they’ll need to navigate on their way…

Laurie Motherwell’s script is packed with hilarious observations and some moments of genuine pathos. Robert Softly Gale handles the direction with skill, giving the eponymous duo plenty of scope to interact with Karen Tennent’s simple but effective set. Connor and Fulton do not so much play their roles as inhabit them. As the spectacularly mismatched pals, they make a brilliant double act.

Anybody looking to leave their worries at the theatre door should seek out Sean and Daro without further delay. This isn’t just a plain cone – it’s served with a flake, a generous dash of sauce and extra hundreds and thousands on top.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Castle Lennox

31/03/23

Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh

The titular Castle Lennox is a hospital, but not as we know it. Places like this – providing long-term residential care for people with learning disabilities, shutting them off from the outside world – no longer exist. Here, playwright Linda McLean explores the pros and the cons: the deep, affecting friendships forged and the toxic regime, rife with bullying.

It’s 1969 and teenager Annis (Emma McCaffrey) is proving too much of a handful for her stepmother (Fletcher Mathers). Annis is lively, independent and full of fun, and she also has a learning disability, which means she’s eligible for enrolment at Castle Lennox. Simultaneously entranced and terrified by its fairytale appearance, Annis enters with hope as well as trepidation. But the staff nurse (Mathers again) takes against her, and – as the years tick inexorably by – Annis’s spirit seems to be quashed. Thankfully, there are also some moments of joy, such as her tentative romance with fellow patient, William (Gavin Yule) – but is she too institutionalised to cope when, twenty years later, Castle Lennox finally closes down?

Castle Lennox, directed by Maria Oller, is a joint production between the Lyceum and Lung Ha, Scotland’s leading theatre company for learning disabled actors. It’s a superb example of how empowering and inclusive drama can be, a cleverly-woven narrative that both supports and enables its fine cast, as well as engaging a sold-out house. McCaffrey shines in the lead role, but fellow actors Yule, Emma Clark (Jo) and Nicola Tuxworth (Marie) also stand out, the latter clearly relishing her devilish character.

But, although the individuals are great, it’s the choral scenes that really make this piece. Movement director Janice Parker creates a bold dynamic, evoking the cheerful chaos of the laundry and Saturday tea parties, and the performers are all absolutely on their game, singing and dancing with gusto and aplomb. BSL interpreter Rachel Amey is nicely integrated into the production, subtly assuming the role of Annis’s dead mother, reassuring her daughter when she’s feeling low.

Karen Tennent’s nifty set places us first in an enchanted forest, where a grand gateway yields to an altogether more prosaic and clinical space, where white curtains segregate the patients from outsiders – and from each other. The costume design (by Alison Brown) also helps to locate us both in time and place, and I like the way Annis’s clothes become drabber as the institution wears her down.

All in all, Castle Lennox is a delight, well-deserving of the standing ovation it receives tonight.

4 stars

Susan Singfield